


Stealing His Underwear

by cynki_rosha



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Facials, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Punishment, Sniffing Underwear, Underwear Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, people being creeps, underwear in mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynki_rosha/pseuds/cynki_rosha
Summary: I stole his underwear to get myself off. He found me out, and then punished and humiliated me for being a gross little pervert
Kudos: 23





	Stealing His Underwear

I had a dirty little secret. It was a secret that I didn't want any to know, and I definitely wasn't going to tell anyone.

I always indulged in it after practice. I was part of a local adult flag football league, one of those things that community centers put together to make sure that people did their regular exercise. All the players would file into the locker rooms and shower and get dressed, and I'd always keep my head down, trying to not look at anyone.

Because looking at people was a Problem, and I didn't want to cause Problems. So I avoided looking.

I was a pretty small guy, nothing really to sneeze at. None of the guys on my team were really anything to sneeze at, all white collar types, with desk jobs or call jobs and a teacher or two. Nothing that would get anyone fit and big.

Except for one guy. The personal trainer guy. The "I played football professionally in college but twisted my knee and now I'm still hot and teach women how to use dumbbells" kind of guy.

And I loved him.

Oh, not love-love him, but he made being in the locker room dangerous. I would sit and stare into my locker as I dressed as fast as possible, not staring at him. I didn't know if he was gay. He didn't act gay. He acted like he did personal fitness to get tail. Lady-tail. And he could beat me up if I looked at him funny.

And all I wanted to do was look at him funny. But I couldn't. So I stared into my locker and dressed as fast as I could and then I left.

At least, until everyone else left, and then I would sneak back in and indulge in my secret.

And my secret was that Personal Trainer Mike was a bit of a slob. I knew that because he left his underwear behind once.

They were a high brand sort of briefs, blue with black racing stripes, and I thought about how much faster that made him. He had changed into a clean pair at some point and left his dirty ones behind on the bench. I had to go back and get my keys out of my locker because I had forgotten them, and they were just sitting there, ignored and abandoned. I had to save them.

And now they were in my locker. I had a little ritual after every practice now, where I would go back to the locker room after everyone had left, grab the undies, and sequester myself in a bathroom stall, where I would smell them. I would smell them and wrap my hand around my cock and jerk myself off, inhaling the heavy scent of his musk, imagining his cock and balls hanging heavy in the material, bouncing slightly, imagining them on my face, and I'd just get myself off to it. The real Mike would never let me do that, let me just rub my face over his junk and just inhale straight from the source, a heavy musty smell, slightly sour, totally irresistible. So I took what I could, and it was a pair of briefs that he had left behind after practice, so they were incredibly potent, sweaty and dirty and everything good about a naughty pair of briefs.

And I would be in that bathroom stall until I came, which wouldn't take long at all.

And it went on like that for a bit, it was my little ritual after every practice. But the smell would go a bit stale, its power diminished, and it would take me longer and longer to cum. So I needed to get a new pair, a fresh pair, reloaded with his wonderful smell. But I wasn't quite sure how to do that. He hadn't left any briefs behind again. That left only one option: replacing them.

I had to do it while everyone else was still there. It should be an easy thing, just swapping the stale pair for the fresh pair, but doing it while no one was looking? That was the hard part. And if I was caught the consequences would be tremendous.

I had to plan it out. I'd have the old pair in my jacket pocket, concealed. I'd snatch the new pair as I walked by and drop the old pair in the same spot. It should be easy enough; none of the other guys would be watching his underwear, because who would be watching underwear?

The next practice time ended up being a perfect opportunity. Everyone was all worked up and jovial, and they were spending a lot of time talking loudly at each other in the locker room. There were days where everyone just got dressed and left, and I wouldn’t have enough time or cover to be able to do the switch-off. But the energy in the locker room was high that day, and everyone was walking about half-dressed and in their towels, shooting the shit, ribbing each other, and generally having a good time.

I had already dressed and was acting like I was heading out of the locker room. I had Mike’s underwear stuffed in my jacket pocket, and I was maneuvering through the locker room towards the exit. Thankfully the most direct route went right past Mike’s locker. And also thankfully, his underwear was sitting on the bench right in front of his locker. Mike himself was occupied trying to towel whip someone, who was screaming at him to stop.. Everyone else was watching them, either egging them on or telling them to stop acting like children.

Mike only had a towel on, and I almost froze to stare at his marvelously carved physique. 

But no, I had to stay focused. I had to switch the underwear.

I approached the pair on the bench. I reached out to grab them and--they caught on the knee of my pants and fell off the bench!

I cursed under my breath. Someone started to turn.

In a panic, I dropped the stale pair on my foot instead of the bench. No, everything was going wrong! My heart raced. I needed to think fast.

"Dude!" I yelled. Now everyone turned to stare at me instead. All eyes on me. I looked down at my foot. "Your gross panties fell on my foot!" I kicked the stale pair straight at Mike's face. Everyone's eyes followed the garment as it sailed through the air.

Mike flinched back and snatched them. I quickly bent down and scooped up the good pair.

Everyone burst into laughter as Mike threw his underwear down to the ground. I glanced around. No one was staring at me accusingly. Everyone was laughing at Mike.

My heart raced in my throat. I didn't know how close that was, but I wasn’t going to dwell on it.

I left the bathroom as everyone tried to convince Mike to put his underwear on his head.

The fresh pair was in my pocket, nice and juicy and warm. My cock throbbed just thinking about them.

I waited until everyone had left the locker room before going back in. I wouldn't wait until getting home to smell them, a nice fresh pair. I was too eager, too horny. I couldn't wait.

I went to my locker and dropped off my bag before heading over to the bathroom stalls.

I made it halfway there before someone grabbed the back of my shirt and pushed me up against the wall. My cheek smacked into the cool tiles and it took a moment for my brain to catch up with what the hell was happening. Someone had pressed the whole of their body against mine; I could feel their breath on my ear. My heart jolted, trying to race but was a little too confused to make a decision on how it wanted to react to this situation. The warm body against mine was both uncomfortable and arousing.

"Hey," they finally said, once I got my senses working together and processing.

It was Mike. Wait, Mike? My head spun. Mike was pressed up against me, his body flat against mine, touching at every point, at the shoulders, at the legs, at the hips--

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I clenched the sweaty underwear in my hand, thinking about the pair that were currently on him.

"H-hi," I muttered against the cool tiles. My heart finally figured out what was going on and sent a rush of heat through my body. I closed my eyes, my breath coming in little gasps. Mike just laid there against me, his hips against my ass, and my cock quickly stirred, spurred on by fear and arousal. I didn't know what was going on. I felt warm under my clothes.

"I noticed what you did earlier," he said. One of his hands was on the back of my neck, keeping me pinned. The other ran down the back of my arm, touching me all the while. Once he got to my hand, he grabbed his underwear. "You're nasty and disgusting, aren't you?" His voice was low and husky, vibrating all the way down to the bottom of my chest. He pulled his underwear out of my grasp. I didn't put up too much of a fight; the second I felt resistance I let go. I swallowed, clenching my eyes closed. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I definitely knew what I wanted him to do. I wasn’t sure if he was going to beat me up or fuck me up, and for some reason I found myself okay with either option. "You're just stealing my underwear to, what, smell them? Jack off in them?"

A little whimper escaped my throat, and I nodded against the tile.

"You're such a nasty little pervert," he said. I didn't know if it was my brain making it up, or if he actually did purr that out. I liked to think that he did.

He held his underwear up to my face. "Smell them, you stupid little slut."

I did. I took a great big breath, a giant whiff, of dirty, sweaty musk. With my second breath, I pressed my face against the cloth, imagining his package hanging heavy in them. I wanted to lick the fabric, but thought better of it.

"There you go, you nasty little pervert," Mike said. I wasn't crazy, he was purring. "Keep breathing it in." He pressed the underwear against my face, giving me no choice but to fill my lungs with the heavy smell. My cock was painfully hard now, pressing against the wall. I subtly tried to rock my hips against the wall, looking for some kind of sensation. I really wanted to touch myself, but I didn't want to risk his ire any more than I already had. "Open your mouth."

My head spun. What was he planning on doing? As if completely out of my own control I opened my mouth, and he shoved the fabric between my lips. It tasted terrible, way worse than it smelled, but the fact that he had ordered me to do it, and I had just complied, made me feel dizzy with arousal. I moaned around the fabric, pressing my tongue against it, tasting every bit of sweat and sourness that the fabric could get me. I sucked on it like it was my lifeblood.

While I was distracted with tasting his underwear, he grabbed my arms and yanked them behind my back. I grunted in surprise as he wrapped something around my wrists. Sport tape, if I had to guess. There was a huge roll of it in the coach's office. I yanked at my arms, trying to pull them free, but they held tight. I couldn’t stop rubbing my hips and my cock against the wall. The inside of my pants quickly got abrasive, but it was at least something.

"Now, we can't have that any more, now, can we?" Mike said. He quickly undid the front of my pants and yanked them down to my knees, and at the same time pulled me away from the wall. I was exposed before him, my cock standing straight out and throbbing. A bit of precum gathered at the tip and dripped down the underside. I uselessly thrust my hips into the air, and my cock waved at nothing, throbbing madly.

Mike pushed me down to my knees. I looked up at him helplessly, bound and gagged, my cock twitching uselessly.

"You want some of this?" Mike asked. I nodded eagerly, pathetically. He slowly undid the front of his jeans. I felt every click of the zipper throughout my entire body, my eyes opened wide in anticipation, my entire body leaning forward, as if he was going to give me the secret to the universe. And, really, he was giving me the secret to my own universe.

He pulled his jeans down just a little bit over his hips. I could see the bulge of his cock through the underwear that he was wearing, a fresh pair that smelled like laundry detergent and clean dick. My mouth watered around the disgusting fabric in my mouth. I whimpered. He had gotten hard by pushing me around and tying me up and gagging me. He wanted this just as much as I did.

He fished his hand into his pants and pulled out his cock, which was thick and hard and angry red.

"You're a fucking little pervert, aren't you?" he said and started to stroke himself. His own precum leaked out of his tip, and he rubbed it all over his cock. It was copious, and I imagined it dripping down my throat. "I bet you want me to cum all over you, huh?" I nodded without my own control. I wanted it, I desperately needed it. "How long have you been stealing my underwear and jacking off all over them? I bet you were just doing it right here in the locker room, weren't you, jerking yourself and rubbing it all over your face."

A flush of shame washed over me. That was exactly what I had been doing.

Mike leaned forward, still stroking himself, his cock just a fraction of an inch away from my cheek. Every several strokes or so it just grazed the hairs there, sending electricity through my body. "That's so fucking pathetic, you're a pathetic excuse for a man."

I closed my eyes, my hips twitching forward against nothing, making my cock bounce. I bit down on the fabric hard.

"You just want my cum all over your gross, pervert face, huh," Mike breathed. He stroked himself faster. I tried to not whimper, but it escaped me anyways. I wanted his cum on my face, I needed it on my face. I needed him to show me how gross and pathetic I was.

"Here it comes, you little creep, everything you ever wanted--"

His cock throbbed and swelled and belched out string after string of his cum all over me, hitting my cheeks, my forehead, my eyes. I shuddered as he drenched me with his cum, which was accompanied by a low aching bellow from the bottom of his chest. He emptied himself onto me, and stroked his cock, several strings still attached to his piss slit, dripping down over my face. He rubbed the head of his cock against my skin, smearing his cum all over me. "There you go, that's how you should look," he said and slapped his member against me several times. It made a flat wet noise as it smacked against my cheek.

"I'm not done with you just yet," he muttered. He stroked his softening cock a couple of times, and then let out a soft, relaxed moan. I didn't have long to think about what he meant before a long stream of piss hit my face. I ducked my head, keeping it out of my eyes, as Mike peed all over me, warm and smelly, hosing me down, soaking my hair. Pee ran down my face, mingling with the cum all over me and getting in my eyes. It soaked in through the underwear in my mouth and got on my tongue. I coughed through the fabric, trying to breathe without inhaling pee in through my nose.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it, you gross creep," Mike said. Once his bladder was empty and I was completely wet, he put his cock away and tore open the tape on my wrists as if it was nothing. My shoulders ached and I slumped forward onto the wet ground, my face just inches away from the puddle of pee that had dripped off my body.

Mike didn't do anything else to me, he just left me there, slumped over on the locker room floor, his underwear still buried in my mouth.

I let my hands fall from behind my back and I wrapped one hand around my throbbing cock, and the other pressed the underwear even further into my mouth, as if I was trying to choke myself with it. It didn't take me long to cum, as if all I had to do was touch my cock, and my entire body lurched forward in orgasm, shooting my seed, which mixed with Mike's pee all over the dirty locker room floor.

I pressed my hand against the ground and with a soft moan I let myself slump forward onto the gross floor. Pee soaked into my clothes as I laid there, the underwear still deep in my mouth. I chewed on it slightly, tasting it just a little bit more before pushing myself up. I was soaked, and my clothes were a mess. I carefully pulled the underwear out of my mouth and shakily got to my feet. My legs were sore and my ears were ringing. I’d have to walk out of the locker room and through the gym lobby looking a mess and smelling like a toilet.

My legs shook as I walked back to my locker, gently folded Mike’s used underwear, and put it in my locker where it belonged. I swallowed when thoughts of what might happen after next practice floated through my head. 


End file.
